Free Wheeling

Despite the name of this blog, Sweet Posy Dreams, it is not generally about the kind of dreams I have when I’m sleeping.  But last night, I had the most interesting dream, a twist on a frequent dream scenario (for me).

Whenever my life is spinning out of control – even if I don’t know it – or I feel that I am losing my grip in some way, I have a dream like this:

I’m driving down a winding road and lose control of my car, veering off the road.  Sometimes the brakes don’t work, but usually I lose control of the car because I am going too, too fast.  I usually wake up before the crash, but sometimes I just wind up stuck in a muddy field.  Depressing, isn’t it?

Last night:

I was riding a unicycle on an expressway.  (Try and picture this.  By the way, my dream unicycle looked like what a dark blue Vespa would look like if it were a unicycle.)  There were two semi-trucks ahead of me, so I decided to go around them.  (I must be a very strong pedal-er!)  Just as I started around the semi directly in front of me, it swerved over to pass the truck ahead of it.  I was forced off the road (pedaling all the time!) onto a heavily graveled shoulder.  I went over the shoulder, into the grass, and was heading for a wooded area.  “Curtains,” I thought, but no!  Just as I got to the edge of the woods, I executed a swanky curve maneuver and came to a clean, safe stop.  Just like that, I held my own against two tractor-trailer trucks and lived to tell the tale with nary a scratch!  Just me and my unicycle.

I think this is a propitious sign!  But I'm not buying a unicycle.  Yet.

Fields of Gold

What a glorious day!  Alfie and I had a fabulous time at the local prairie forest preserve with the three B’s – birds, butterflies, and bees. 

(Ok, and frogs, but I only like frogs at a distance!  I have an unreasonable and out-of-control fear of frogs.  It’s not so much a fear of frogs, as a fear of stepping on frogs.  (Or toads.)  Here's why:  As teenagers, my brother and I were playing volleyball in our yard.  I was foolishly wearing thin-soled slippers.  Coming down from what was no doubt a tremendous spike, I landed square on a toad.  I felt it squish under my thin-soled slipper.  Ewww.  My brother, being a brother, held the toad up by its back toes and let blood drip out of the its mouth.  Ever since, well you can imagine. )

Anyway, today the frogs stayed in or near the ponds and Alfie and I enjoyed the late summer hum and buzz.

More pictures from the prairie.

O rose, thou art sick!

When our daughter was in kindergarten, she memorized the William Blake poem “The Sick Rose.”

O rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
 Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

Ok, I know, this is a strange and slightly macabre poem to have a kindergartner memorize.  Nevertheless . . .

I thought of this poem today when I was pruning our wild rose bush.  It leads a tough life near a walnut tree in a shady area between our house and the neighbors.  Being on the property line, it’s in a kind of no-man’s land.  The poor thing gets overrun by wild grape vine and Virginia creeper, too, on occasion.

The rose didn’t bloom this summer, and it developed some kind of wasting disease.

But today I got inspired to clean it up.  I pulled off the grapevine and weeded away all the little tree sprouts at its base.  I pruned.  And I pruned.  There were a lot of dead canes, but as a show of rose pluckiness, also a little shoot coming up in the middle of the bush.

So, o rose, thou art sick, but not dead yet!

How hard can it be?

It started with a small leak.  There is a tiny bathroom in what used to be a tiny apartment on the second floor of our house.  After we reclaimed the apartment and turned it into an office/den, the tiny bathroom became the guys’ bathroom.  Then one day we noticed a water stain on the ceiling in the butler’s pantry down below.  Uh oh.  

One thing led to another as things do in an old house.  Now we can see into the bathroom from below.  So convenient when I want to call up that dinner is ready!

After much time and lots and lots of thought, my husband gutted the entire tiny bathroom.  “If only we could switch the location of the shower and the toilet,” I said.  Can’t be done, the joists run the wrong way, we were told.  Finally, a nice man who works in the Lowes plumbing department asked, “Why can’t you drop the ceiling below and run the pipes under the joists?”  Light bulb!  That’s what led to this.

A total reconfiguration and all new pipes – including moving the vent stack.  Who knew such things are possible?  And it’s only money, right?  (Our plumbers like us a lot.)  We’re still only partway through this latest adventure in home remodeling.  Today my husband is putting in new joists and a subfloor and plotting his next move.

Will keep you updated.

Crazy for Hats

Hats!  This summer I began knitting hats.  I have knitted six hats so far.  I gave two away before I took pictures.  I can't wait for the weather to turn cool so I can wear these.  I can always wear them when walking Alfie this fall and winter because he doesn't care if I look silly!

Hello!

Hello and welcome to my blog.  


I'm a Tennessee girl who transplanted to the Midwest and never left.  I married a Midwesterner and my children are (gasp!) born and bred flatlanders.  I live in Illinois amid the corn and soybean fields.  Do I miss the Tennessee hills?  You bet.  Do I miss the Tennessee heat and humidity?  Not at all.  


I am a freelance writer and editor.  In addition, over the years I've also played at being a college instructor, a realtor, and a communications consultant.  But now "The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things."  I recently lost my main client, a large corporate consulting firm, so I have some free time -- the time to finally answer that age-old question: What do I want to be when I grow up?  Did I mention that I'm well past the "grown-up" age limit?  Still, it's never too late to reinvent and rediscover.


Come join me on my journey!